The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [104]
He turns to walk away and I crash my fist into the cage door as hard as I can. “You have to make sure they live or else all of you are going to die!”
But it’s as if he doesn’t hear me. I watch him walk across the room and confer with a few of the Recruiters still there, pointing down at me once or twice, and then they all leave. He doesn’t even glance at me as he closes the door to the auditorium behind him. My heart’s pounding so furiously that I don’t know if it will ever calm down again.
My cage is tiny, so small I’m forced to stay on my hands and knees. The walls close in tight around me, making it impossible to breathe, and I start to hyperventilate and gag. I try to retch but nothing comes up and I realize I haven’t eaten since Elias got sick.
I slam my hands against the door, twisting to angle my fingers through the narrow slats to work on the lock, but I can’t reach it. All I can do is bang on the cage walls, pulling and pushing and hoping that maybe the tired old metal will give way. My arm jams into one of the rusty hinges and I hiss at the pain as blood begins to well.
And then a tired voice says, “It’s not going to budge.” I look up and see the woman in the large cage dominating the center of the room. She’s standing there, one hand hooked through the links, blood crusted around her fingers. “I tried for over a week.”
Behind her, one of the Unconsecrated—a skinny bald man in a ratty white tunic—lunges for her but she easily dodges him, backing away to the center of the cage. The Unconsecrated man raises his face to the air, black eyes searching for the scent of my uninfected blood and then he moans, trying to reach through the cage for me and breaking his index finger back as he does.
The other Unconsecrated shambles around to join him and I gasp when I see his face. It’s the boy from before. The one from the Neverlands; the one on the shore who wouldn’t let me take him away.
I shudder looking at him, wishing I’d tried harder to convince him to come with me that night. Knowing I had a chance to save him and I didn’t.
The woman limps to the far side of the cage, and when it looks like the Unconsecrated are more focused on me, slowly slides down until she’s sitting, pulls her tunic over her knees and wraps her arms tight around her legs. She looks small and helpless, sweat dripping from her close-cropped hair. “What’s your name?” she asks me. She sounds exhausted. So ready for all of this to be over.
“Annah,” I tell her softly.
She nods. “I’m Dove.” She raises a limp finger and points to the two Unconsecrated. “And that’s Noell and Jonah. They’re …” She passes a hand over her face, leaving a streak of blood along her cheek. “They were …” She pauses, looking for the right word. “Friends.” Her voice cracks.
I look away from her, not able to handle the expression of loss on her face. “I’m sorry,” I say but it’s not enough. I don’t think there could ever be words for this moment. The two Unconsecrated rattle the large cage, trying to find a way through it to me, to the uninfected blood slowly dripping from my elbow.
She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “They wanted this, I think.” She leans her head back so that she’s staring out through the top of the cage, as if she could see the sky if she just tried hard enough. “They’re Soulers. Well, I was a Souler too, I guess.” She sighs and then coughs and I notice a red smear around her lips. I wonder how much time’s left before she either bleeds out or her weakened body gives in to the infection.
“They thought this would be eternal life. Resurrection.” She closes her eyes. “How stupid is that?”
“It’s not stupid,” I tell her. She glances at me, clearly not believing me. “I mean, I’ve wondered about that before. If there’s something more to them.”
“There’s not,” she says matter-of-factly. “Noell was my husband. He’s the one who really believed in all of this. There’s nothing left inside him anymore.